


Buddy

by charamchadoo



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, drunk!luke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6589441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charamchadoo/pseuds/charamchadoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunk!Luke. Michael takes care of him a bit. </p>
<p>Based on FOOLS by Troye Sivan. DEFINITELY inspired by Simon and Baz (Snowbaz) from Carry On (and Fangirl) by Rainbow Rowell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buddy

**Author's Note:**

> It came out a bit too serious for my liking but oh well hahahaha FIRST MUKE FIC! And my favorite Muke AU is Snowbaz hahaha I love imagining them like that XD Pls let me know what you think! :D
> 
> This is also on my Tumblr. Look for @charamchadoo :3

“Michael…” someone drawls from the front door. A drunk Luke fresh from partying comes stumbling into their shared apartment.

Ever since this thing with Luke and his girlfriend blew up in all of their faces, Michael and the boys have tried to be nothing but supportive. But when she came to be too much for any of them to handle, they left Luke to his own devices. When she started to be incessantly clingy and just downright annoying, even Luke couldn’t handle it anymore. And when they finally broke up, that bitch made it look like it was all Luke’s fault when, in reality, Luke broke it off.

Regardless, it got Luke fucked up real good.

And Michael was left to pick up the pieces.

Luke fell forward to the couch, stumbling into Michael. Honestly, with this shared two by two apartment thing they got set up in, Michael was at his last fuck to give about this. (He’d have to get back at Calum tomorrow for insisting that partying is a form of cure for this kind of shit.)

“Hey, babe.” Luke pats Michael’s head like a cat, his eyes half open. Mike could smell beer, vomit, and cigarette smoke. (Calum, fuck you, I swear.) “Pat, pat.” Michael shakes his head. “Let’s get you to bed, buddy,” he says, struggling to pull Luke up. Luke giggled, but cooperated somewhat. As Michael half-led, half-dragged Luke to his room, Luke said, “I love you, buddy.” Then he giggled. And then he almost puked on the floor before Michael was quick enough to grab a nearby trashcan.

As Luke dumped tonight’s beer and dinner into the plastic bag, Michael rubbed warm circles on his upper back. Closing his eyes, he tries to recall a time when they weren’t all as “grown up” as they were now.

Only fools do what I do.

Michael would always remember not feeling okay around Luke. Luke would say they hated each other; it wasn’t like that really. Michael was just really, really confused at the time.

When they did make up and became friends, Michael indulged himself and let his mind wander to where it was forbidden to go.

Luke.

“Hey,” Luke whispered, booping Michael’s nose. It took all of Michael’s remaining resolve to not dump Luke violently onto the bed. “Oooh, take it easy on the pain kink, baby,” Luke slurred, landing on his mattress with a soft thump. He probably thinks he’s hilarious. Heaving, Michael said, “You’re not usually this hard to take care of.” Luke giggled. “That’s ‘cause I think I’m drunk right now, jackass.” He started stripping off his layers as Michael left the room to make some tea.

Only fools fall.

I don’t think I ever hated you, Michael thinks to himself. Never.

He just hated how he didn’t understand exactly what he felt at the time, and why it was getting the best of him, and why he couldn’t get enough of that quiet blond kid with the weird green shades. Why it made his chest ache. His lungs suddenly had the ability to not work around Luke. His brain went haywire around the boy.

He tried his best of course, to fall in love with other people – girls, guys, anyone really. (Even tried to wank it off, to no avail.) He succeeded for a while, which was best for them all when the band took off. (Michael thinks Calum knows nothing, but Calum misses nothing. Ashton was smart enough to notice, but polite enough to say nothing. They were best friends after all.)

He didn’t mind it that much, that Luke had so many fangirls. They’ve kinda accepted it and all their fans as their own, and they loved them all just the same. Their fans had established ships within the band, and Michael was so hyper-aware of Muke he’s not sure if he and Luke didn’t start doing it all on purpose. Every random hug, random kiss, random “I’m naked now and I’m gonna jump on you”’s, random anything. Random him and Luke. On cam and behind closed doors. He’ll never admit it, but he was running out of excuses to keep doing stuff like this. For the fans. For publicity. For the band.

For himself.

And my hopes, they are high; I must keep them small.

Sometimes, when they’d cuddle for fun (Luke was a cuddler, but he’d never admit it) and fell asleep like that – in each other’s arms, a tangled mess of limbs and blankets – Michael would think about the irony of it all. How can you be so lucky yet so fucked up at the same time? A cruel twist of fate. Whatever, he was gonna roll with it. He wouldn’t say no to something so good as holding this boy in his arms. Even just for now.

However, when this shit surrounding Luke’s (now ex) girlfriend started happening, Michael started going back into old habits. Feeling things. His mind wandered back to where his heart was. It was okay when Luke didn’t have a girlfriend. Muke could live (along with all the other ships) and Michael would be able to celebrate his happiness internally. ‘Voodoo Doll’ guitar moves could still be romantic. He could still use ‘Amnesia’ to stare at Luke onstage – a hot, sweaty mess. 

But no. Some bad bitch had to ruin his boy.

“Mike…” Luke says weakly from his room. Michael strolls in holding a fresh cup of tea and some Advil. Too early to drink it probably, but at least the headache Luke would have in the morning wouldn’t be as much of a bitch as his ex. Michael hands him the mug, helping Luke sit up a bit on the pillows. Luke smiled stupidly as he takes it. “I’m lucky you love me,” he says quietly, taking a sip. And immediately sputters when he burns his tongue. Michael chuckles. If only you knew.

Only fools fall for you.

Finally, Luke sort of settles down and was able to sort himself out a bit. Michael was tucking Luke in when Luke gestured for Michael to come closer. Michael jutted his face to just in front of Luke’s, expecting another random boop on the nose.

Then Luke kisses him.

It was short but sweet, as Luke would later put into words. Patting a stunned Michael’s cheek (which was flushed pink), Luke giggled. “Love you. Buddy.” Then he started snoozing.

Michael walked slowly to his room. Finally he kisses me, he thinks, shutting his door, and he’s drunk. So. Fucking. Perfect. He honestly thinks he’s far too tired for this shit, and Luke’s far too drunk for it to be serious.

That night, Michael fell asleep and dreamt of blond boys with blue eyes and breaking their hearts in a hundred different ways.

“Michael?” A raspy yawn escaped Luke’s lips as he padded around the apartment, blanket still wrapped firmly around his shoulders. His head was killing him, and he had washed down the Advil on his bedside table with a bottle of water labeled, ‘DRINK ME’. 

He found Michael sitting on the couch with his laptop in front of him. His headphones seemed to be turned up to a pretty high volume; Luke could make out a bit of loud guitar solos blaring from them.

Settling himself down next to Michael, some of last night’s events rushed into his head like a tide.

Michael. Taking care of me.

Michael. Always being there.

Michael – staring at me when he thinks I’m not looking, mumbling in his sleep.

Michael.

Oh.

OH.

Pain kink?

Luke chuckles.

When Michael removes his headphones, Luke turns to face him. It’s such a nice face, too, Luke thinks. So pretty. And soft. A face he knew almost as well as his own.

I kissed him, he thinks. Luke looks at Michael’s lips. Right there.

“You feeling better now, buddy?” Michael gives him a small smile – it’s almost a smirk.

Buddy.

Luke wants to wipe that smirk off Michael’s face.

He kisses Michael instead. (It works, too.)

It starts out soft and slow, but after Luke pushes first, Michael pushes back. Slowly, slowly, like they were scared of all the walls they were breaking. Like everything was delicate glass. Like nimble fingers, placed on the sharp planes of each other’s faces, would shatter everything they had. Then, after a while, it was like a moth to a flame. Like fire and air; like they would never get enough.

And they never would.

Only fools.

When they finally, finally had to breathe, Luke rests his forehead on Michael’s.

“I thought you were just too drunk,” Michael whispers against his lips. Luke chuckles. “Maybe I am.”

Pulling away, Luke looks into Michael’s eyes – pale emerald against his own watery blue. He keeps his arms wrapped around Michael’s neck.

“Love you,” Luke mumbles, “Buddy.” Michael wraps his arms around Luke completely, tightly; Luke mumbles “I’m sorry”’s into Michael’s shoulder. 

“I love you so much,” Michael allows himself to admit, after too much time holding it down. “I love you.”

I don’t give a fuck, I’m not giving up, I still want it all.


End file.
